


With All the Restless Earnestness

by boomerbird10



Category: NCIS
Genre: C A T S, Gen, all I'm saying is that Tali deserves a pet cat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:28:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23655367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boomerbird10/pseuds/boomerbird10
Summary: "Tali, just why is there a kitten under the couch?" Twenty years of furballs, mischief, and feline affection told through snapshots of Tali's childhood.
Relationships: Ziva David/Anthony DiNozzo
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	With All the Restless Earnestness

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a Twitter thread about the weird things kids say and by a challenge to "write about a cat that only answers to something ridiculous". Plus, ya know, I get to combine my favorite things, Tali and cats! There will be four parts to this story and it'll span Tali's childhood.

"Holding this soft, small living creature in my lap this way, though, and seeing how it slept with complete trust in me, I felt a warm rush in my chest. I put my hand on the cat's chest and felt his heart beating. The pulse was faint and fast, but his heart, like mine, was ticking off the time allotted to his small body with all the restless earnestness of my own."

-Haruki Murakami, _The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle_

* * *

"I didn't hide something, Daddy."

Tony stops tying Tali's shoe to glance up at her miniature face in suspicion. "What was that?"

"I didn't, um, I didn't hide it in my room."

At almost four years old, Tali isn't the best liar in the world. In fact, randomly announcing that she didn't hide anything almost certainly means that she _did_. "Tali," her father starts sternly, "are you lying to me?"

"No! There's no one in my room, not in my whole room!"

"No _one!_?" Tony quickly finishes Tali's second shoe and points at her, unsmiling. "You stay put. I'm going to go check your room, and if you've hidden _anyone_ in there, you and I are going to have some trouble, little lady."

Just as he straightens, though, his phone dings with a text. He yanks the device out of his pocket to scan the message. "Shit," he mutters, hopefully too quietly for Tali to hear.

They're trying to leave for the airport to pick up Senior, who's coming to visit—according to the text, the plane has landed a full half hour ahead of schedule. It's definitely time to go. Eager to avoid possible kidnapping charges, though, Tony _does_ give Tali's room a quick once-over and he thankfully finds none of his daughter's little friends.

Unfortunately, on the way out the door, he misses a little squeak coming out from under the toddler-sized bed.

* * *

They're enjoying the roast Tony made for dinner when disaster strikes.

"Tali, you won't _believe_ what this guy said to me!" Senior is saying with great enthusiasm, and Tony rubs his forehead roughly, hoping that this story will turn out to be age-appropriate for his daughter. "First, I tell him no way, no deal, that number's way too low. Then get this, he turns around and says SISTER MARY MARGARET!"

As he shouts the last few words, Senior leaps out of his chair with surprising agility, and he rests a hand on the wall to stabilize himself. (They all miss a tiny mewling noise as something indignantly protests the sudden loud noise.)

"Dad?" Tony asks sharply. "What's wrong?" He worked too long as a cop and an agent to ignore his training, and he looks carefully over the scene to see if anything appears out of place. Nothing jumps out at him—Tali is still in her chair, food-filled fork halfway to her open mouth as she gapes at her grandfather.

"Something touched me," Senior breathlessly announces.

"Come on, Pops, you've got to give me more than that. What touched you?"

"I don't know," Senior protests. He peers suspiciously under the table from where he's standing, but he seems largely uninterested in getting a closer look. "Something sharp."

Tony's almost certain that nothing serious is happening here, but just in case, he gets down on his hands and knees. "All clear down here. Maybe you've just seen _The Conjuring_ one too many times and your imagination got out of hand."

Tali loudly mumbles something through a mouthful of partially chewed potato, and Tony corrects her automatically. "Don't talk with your mouth full, munchkin," he tells her, still poking around on the floor. Then one of her garbled words filters through his distraction, and he freezes. "Wait, what did you say? Swallow first this time, Tali-Tee."

Tali makes a big show of gulping down her bite. "I didn't hide anyone under, um, under the couch."

Suddenly, everything starts to make a horrifying amount of sense, and—hoping he's wrong—Tony moves toward the sofa to check underneath it. Back in the corner, crouched fearfully against the wall, there's a tiny kitten. "That sharp thing that touched you wouldn't be around the size and shape of a kitten's claw, Dad, would it?"

"A kitten?" Senior echoes, surprised. "When did you get a cat?"

"I didn't, but something tells me Tali might have." Tony counts to ten as he rises to his feet, praying for patience and leaving the kitten where it is for now. "Tali," he begins slowly, trying not to lose his temper. "Just _why_ is there a kitten under the couch?"

"Um, I don't know, Daddy," Tali insists nervously.

Tony pulls out the chair across from hers and sits down, leaning in as if they're on opposite sides of an interrogation table. "Lying is the wrong thing to do here, are we clear?" he reminds her pointedly. "I'm going to ask you one more time—why did you bring a kitten home with you?"

Tali's little chin starts to quiver, _just_ like Ziva's does when she's close to crying. "Because he needed a friend!" she exclaims earnestly, her voice also hinting at impending tears as she realizes that she's in trouble. "He was by himself! Didn't have a daddy or _ima_."

"Did you ask me for permission before bringing an animal into our house?"

"No, um, no, I…," Tali bites her lip and looks away, hanging her head. "No, Daddy."

Tony sighs and softens a little. "Sweetheart, do you understand why that's not an okay thing to do?" This query is met with another head shake. "Alright, then I think you're going to have to go to time out for a while."

"But that's not fair—"

"Hey, no talking back. Not unless you want to be in bigger trouble."

Tali nods reluctantly, pauses to make sure her father is truly finished, and raises her hand. "Yes, Tali?"

"How long do I gotta stay in time out?" she replies mournfully.

"Until you can explain to me why you were wrong, okay?"

Tali nods dejectedly; her face makes it look like Tony kicked her rather than assigning her the mild punishment of sitting by herself. He tries not to let that make him feel guilty—no matter how much she doesn't want an animal to suffer needlessly, he can't have her adopting strays left and right.

He shuffles Tali off to her room, shuts the door, and returns to the living room to try to deal with the kitten. To his surprise, though, Senior has already coaxed the fluffy little thing out when Tony returns.

It's a tiny, scrawny thing, probably too young to be away from its mother. Long, tangled tabby fur in a light shade of orange makes it look bigger than it actually is, but it's easy to tell that the kitten is malnourished. "Cute, isn't she?" Senior comments happily, holding the thing against his chest.

"I guess, but I still don't want it in my house," Tony replies darkly. "How do you know it's a she?"

Senior makes a sheepish face. "I don't. I just felt around and couldn't find much, so…"

"Well, I guess it doesn't matter. I'll find a rescue to release it to in the morning or I'll call animal control. I guess it'll have to stay overnight, though," Tony muses.

"You aren't keeping it?" Senior questions in surprise. "Why not?"

Tony gives him an incredulous look. "I'm not much of a Dr. Doolittle, am I?" he retorts rhetorically.

Senior gives him a pointed look in return. "You may not be, but I think Tali really wants her."

"Dad, she's not even four yet, okay? She's going to want a lot of things in her lifetime, and she's not going to get most of them. It's not going to be the end of the world when she doesn't get a cat that—based on her behavior today—she doesn't deserve."

"You just said it yourself, Junior—she's only three!" Senior emphasizes, frowning at his son. "She was trying to do the right thing."

"By lying to me?" Tony challenges, starting to get seriously frustrated with his father's unsolicited parenting advice.

"By rescuing a creature in need," Senior corrects.

"Maybe her reasoning was noble, but that doesn't mean I should reward her for sneaking the kitten in and then going out of her way to lie about it."

Senior sighs and points to a small frame on the wall. In the photo, a very content-looking Tony and Ziva smile at the photographer as they perch on a moped, ready to spend a few hours together exploring the city. "Son, when's the last time you looked at that picture?"

"I see it every day," Tony replies curtly.

"Do you look at it, though? Do you really pay attention? Because I've watched Tali, and _she_ sure does. That's one of the only connections to Ziva she has left. Less than two years ago, that was the only connection she had to you! She's lost so much, Tony, and she's so young. You need to remember that—it might be okay to let the lying go just this once and give her a new companion. She needs constants in her life."

"We're not keeping the damn cat, and that's the end of it," Tony snaps, tired of being preached at and tired of Senior's guilt tripping. "Drop it. I'm going to go check on my daughter."

He walks down the hall, wondering why Tali hasn't at least _tried_ to come out and answer the question he put in front of her. He has a hunch that the excitement of the day wore her out and she simply fell asleep.

When he slips into her bedroom, he finds that he's right, but the scene in front of him is unexpected in a way that squeezes his heart painfully.

She's asleep, alright, but she's not in her bed, nestled in her usual pile of blankets. No, she's curled up on the floor, looking a lot like a little cat herself. One arm is snaked around Kelev and the other is held up to her face so she can suck her thumb—that's something Tony hasn't seen her do in over a year. Clearly, she needed the extra comfort tonight.

The worst part of the picture, though, is her sweet little face. It's decorated with salty tear tracks to match her still-wet eyelashes, and all signs point to an obvious conclusion; his kid sat alone in her room crying herself to sleep, and he let her do it.

Feeling like he's failed her, Tony kneels down to carefully lift her off the rug and onto the bed. His touch must not be light enough, though, because she wakes as he tucks her in like he should have done in the first place. "Daddy?" she asks, her voice croaky with tears and sleep.

"I'm here, baby girl."

"I'm sorry I—" She has to stop to yawn widely. "Sorry for the, um, the baby cat."

"That's not important right now," Tony assures her in a murmur, tucking in her blankets a little more here and there. "But thank you for apologizing."

"Do you still love me, even if I, um, even if I was bad?"

The question takes Tony's breath away like a sucker punch. "Darlin', there isn't a thing in the world that could stop me from loving you. I love you no matter what, more than anything." He leans down to press a long, apologetic kiss to her cheek. "And I'm sorry, too. We'll talk more tomorrow, okay?"

"'Kay," Tali agrees, yawning again.

"I'll see you in the morning. Sweet dreams."

"Nigh', Daddy."

"Night, Tali."

* * *

In the morning, Tony's unsurprised to find that his father, often an early riser, is already in the kitchen sipping coffee. Curled up at his feet is the little orange kitten.

"Good morning, Junior!" Senior greets him with a smile. Tony's glad to see that there don't seem to be any hard feelings on his father's end.

"Morning, Dad." Senior holds out a cup of coffee, surprising Tony. "Thank you."

"I heard you getting up a few minutes ago," Senior explains. "Hope you still take your joe the same way you used to."

"Order hasn't changed a bit," Tony assures him, then takes a sip. "It's just right." He gives his father a tight smile. "Dad, about last night…"

"I know, I was overstepping. I'm sorry for it."

"Actually, _I_ was going to apologize. I think you're right. I was being selfish, focusing on what would be easier for me versus what might be good for Tali. We might keep the kitten after all."

Senior nods. "I still think it's a good idea, son, but I didn't mean to imply that you're a bad father or that you're not putting Tali first."

"You didn't. It wasn't what you said that bothered me. I was hearing my own insecurities, I guess." Tony sighs and shrugs. "I still feel like there's so much I get wrong, you know? Stuff that probably came so naturally to Ziva."

"Well, Ziva had a bit of a head start, didn't she?" Senior pats Tony on the back in a show of support. "You don't need to be the parent that Ziva was, either. You're Tali's dad, and that's just who she needs you to be."

For some reason, his father's words make him feel unexpectedly emotional, and Tony takes a long sip of his coffee to cover it up. "Thanks, Dad," he croaks, sputtering slightly on the still-too-hot drink. Once he coughs for a moment and his throat clears, he decides to change the subject, moving away from painful things. "So, back to that kitten—what was it that you shouted last night, exactly?"

Senior chuckles, maybe embarrassed but rolling with it. "I know your upbringing might have been a little on the secular side—"

"Yeah, how many times did you get divorced and remarried when I was a kid? A dozen or so?" Tony teases, but his father ignores the interruption and keeps talking.

"—but mine wasn't. Your grandfather was a devoted Catholic up until the day he died. I went to Catholic boarding school from my fifth birthday until I graduated."

"Bet you enjoyed the uniforms," Tony interjects, flashing briefly back to the way he imagined Kate in the wake of her death.

Senior chuckles. "You might be right, but that wasn't the part that left the longest-lasting impression… it was the nuns, Junior." He shudders. "They were terrifying women, every single one of them, and they weren't afraid to make your palms sting if you made them mad. Well, one of the nuns that taught math, Sister Mary Margaret—" He's interrupted again, but this time, it's not by Tony. The kitten in the floor has popped up all of the sudden, and it's stretching and mewing.

"Need some attention, kitty?" Tony asks her, scooping her up and chuckling when she meows again.

Senior smiles at the cat and continues. "Anyway, Sister Mary Margaret—" Again, he's cut off by a loud mew, much to the amusement of both DiNozzo men.

"Maybe she thinks that's her name," Tony suggests. "Sister Mary Margaret!" he tries. The kitten meows plaintively, pawing at Tony's cheek.

Senior smiles at the little animal and continues. "She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was notoriously tough on all of her students, and unfortunately for us, everyone who passed through the school had to take her algebra class. Her name became synonymous with—well, take your pick of swear words. It was the first curse I ever learned, and it still comes out sometimes… as you heard last night."

Tony chuckles, scratching the kitten behind her ears. "You never told me that story," he remarks.

Senior shrugs. "Ah, well, when you were around that same age, I was… not overly focused on fatherhood. Since we started reconnecting, Junior—I wanted you to think the best of me. I didn't think I'd win any points by cursing at nuns." Rueful smile still in place, Senior's gaze drifts to rest on something just past Tony's shoulder. "Good morning, sweetheart!" he cries happily, greeting the wild-haired 3-year-old.

"Hi, Pop-Pop. Hi, Daddy, Hi, kitty—oh!" Tali isn't much of a morning person, and she's evidently still waking up. The second the kitten's presence in her father's arms registers in her mind, though, she's a whole new girl, flouncing up to Tony's side to get closer to the feline. "Do you like the kitty, Daddy?"

"She's not so bad," Tony admits, dropping a kiss to his daughter's hair. "Do you want to hold her?"

"Yeah! C'mere, kitty kitty," she coos.

Tony reaches down with his free arm to pick Tali up, getting her settled in his lap. "Okay, you ready?"

"I was born ready!" says the itty bitty Gator McKlusky in his lap; he thinks this every day, but he's never been more proud.

"Good deal. Don't forget to be gentle, _White Lightning_ ," Tony reminds her, and he carefully transfers the kitten into the cradle of Tali's arms.

Tali's mesmerised, watching the kitten in absolute fascination. "Wow," she breathes. "Her hair is soft, like, um, like a teddy bear."

Tony smiles, enjoying her sense of wonder. "Just like _your_ crazy hair, Tals." Then something occurs to him—Tali shouldn't be surprised by the feel of the kitten's fur, right? "You must've pet her before, though, right? When you brought her home?"

Tali shakes her head, not looking up from the kitten. "She went fast, like _zoom_!" She throws herself to one side to imitate immense speed, and Tony catches her deftly before she falls head over kitten off his lap. "I catched her in my, um, with my backpack."

"I bet you were fast, too, kiddo, to be able to grab her like that," Senior compliments.

"Don't encourage her," Tony argues, but he's smiling.

"Daddy, um, Daddy says I run like…" She can't think of the word that finishes the phrase, so she looks to Tony for help.

"Like the wind," Tony reminds her, "but maybe more to the point, you run like your _ima_ used to. David women are speed demons, huh?" He says it lightly, but speaking of Ziva in the past tense still makes his heart ache. He knows now that she's alive out there somewhere, trying to neutralize the threat against her… but her absence is still keenly felt.

Luckily, Tali doesn't sense his brief discomfort, focused as she is on the little orange tabby. "Yeah," she murmurs. "Fast."

"Did you know that Pop-Pop and I figured out what her name is?"

"What is it?"

"Sister Mary Margaret," Senior says with relish, and he and Tony exchange grins. Right on cue, the kitten meows loudly.

"Who's sister is she?"

"Well, we need to make sure she doesn't already have a home, but as long as she doesn't… Yours, if you'd like." Surprised, Tali twists around to look at her father and see if he means it. Unfortunately, Tali manages to flip the kitten upside down by doing so, causing Sister Mary Margaret to emit an indignant squeak. "But you still have to be really careful with her," Tony adds as a reminder, inverting the kitten back to her original position.

"Sorry, Sister. Please, um, please live with me?"

The kitten just blinks back, her large eyes intelligent and observant. Tony still has some reservations about adopting an animal—not the least of which being the way it will complicate things if they have to suddenly drop what they're doing and go into hiding—but he can tell that the kitten will be good for Tali.

"Welcome home, Sister Mary Margaret," he says quietly.


End file.
